The Games We Play: Fragile Things
by masque
Summary: Choices and their consequence in a game as old as time. As QuiGon Jinn lies in the Healer's Ward of Naboo Palace, ObiWan faces a future filled with danger and despair with only fragile hope to guide him.
1. Chapter 1

Thank you for being adventurous enough to click on this story! For those who missed the summary, this could be considered pre-slash and in my mind is one of a three part story arc. Whether I actually get there... Hope you enjoy! Feedback is always welcome.

Disclaimer: Doesn't belong to me. See LucasFilms.

* * *

THE GAMES WE PLAY

**World of Fragile Things**

There was no time to think. A fact which Obi-Wan was profoundly grateful for. If he stopped for even a moment to think of everything he was risking with his reckless actions, he probably wouldn't go through with it. After all, he wasn't the rebellious one. That title belonged unequivocally to his master, Qui-Gon Jinn.

He was just the obedient apprentice. The perfect padawan. Dependable, loyal, responsible, trustworthy, competent and just this side of average. Nothing special. He'd known this simple fact all his life, drilled into him from infancy, even before the Jedi had taken him in. Obi-Wan accepted it without question or comment. He knew his place in the order of things.

Though his master's recent, and very public reminder, he could have done without.

At the very worst, he would likely be expelled from the Order. At best, he would be assigned to another master and allowed to complete his training. But he couldn't deny the visions that haunted him, even in his waking hours, since the beginning of this mission. Even now, when the danger should have passed, his mind was besieged by images: of smoke and ash and ravaged planets, of space and cold, dull, mechanical monotony, of scattered bodies, lifeless and grotesque and too numerous to count. Screams of rage and pain and the fury of helpless despair - _death_ - blood spattered walls -_ death _- charred clothing and frozen expressions of guileless innocence - _death of hope_--

Obi-Wan would come back to himself with dry tears marring his face. In moments of near hysteria, he thanked the ancient Jedi for designing such concealing clothing, and carefully hid the evidence of his weakness within the deep cowl of his robe.

Live in the Moment.

As his ship neared the bustling spaceport of Mos Espa, Obi-Wan wondered if Qui-Gon would see this act as an homage to his master's teaching, or an indulgence in his dubious talent for prescience. Either way, the course of history would change. And he was honoring Qui-Gon's request; if he chose to be creative in the implementation, well, he'd learned from the master.

But in his heart, the only thing Obi-Wan could see was the searing light blue that peeked out from underneath sandy blond hair. Incredibly blue eyes that knew too much for one so young. Eyes that in the rarest of moments, asked for only one thing: to be loved.

Obi-Wan would keep that unspoken promise.

XXXXX

The steady pulse on the monitor was just another annoying electronic beep to Anakin. Normally, he'd probably be tearing all this stuff apart trying to figure out how it worked. Maybe if he could make the machines work better, Master Qui-Gon would wake up sooner.

But that idea had been shot down by the scathing look the healer gave him when he asked what kind of power cell the machine ran on.

He was getting that look a lot.

If the lighting wasn't quite so bright, and Anakin squinted his eyes just a little, he could almost pretend the tall Jedi was just sleeping. If the beeping wasn't there. Padme told him that Master Qui-Gon would be alright, that he just had to take some time to let his body heal. That the master would wake up when he was feeling better.

Anakin didn't think that queens could lie. But then, he didn't think that Jedi could get hurt either. Suns forbid, they might be…killed.

But Obi-Wan had told him that Master Qui-Gon would be alright. And he would know 'cause he's the master's padawan.

He missed Obi-Wan. Padme was really busy being the queen and helping people after the battle, even planning this big celebration for the Gungans and Naboo. He didn't really want to bother her when she had all that important stuff to do. But Obi-Wan always told him what was happening. Like why Padme lied about who she was.

Anakin thought the padawan seemed nice enough when they first met, not at all like the other slaves who'd been with their masters for years. He was friendly and really smart and told great stories. And Obi-Wan's eyes changed colors; Anakin kept trying to sneak a glimpse and see how many different colors there were. He'd even let Anakin poke around the hyper drive engine and work on the power couplings.

But after they arrived on Coruscant, Obi-Wan seemed to get really upset whenever Master Qui-Gon started talking about middle-chlorines and the Force and how Anakin should listen to his heart and quiet his mind. He tried to pay attention and do what he was told… but the small pain in his head and heart grew worse when he tried.

Obi-Wan and Master Qui-Gon got into a big fight after that, and Anakin knew it was about him. He didn't want to be a problem, but he didn't know what he'd done wrong. So Anakin had hidden back in the engine room and hoped that if the Jedi couldn't see him, they might forget about the fight. They might forget to send him back to Wattoo.

And that's where Obi-Wan found him an hour later, wedged in tight underneath the circuit breaker array. Cold, frightened, and more alone that he had been when he'd left Tatooine. Obi-Wan smiled, gave him a blanket, and pulled him into his lap with a warm hug. Anakin thought he was too old for that now, but it was the same thing Mom might have done…

They sat and talked, Obi-Wan explaining things in ways he could understand. Why the Council asked all those questions, why everyone looked at him funny, why Master Qui-Gon got angry…Obi-Wan even apologized. Anakin was stunned. That had never happened before. They talked until Anakin couldn't keep his eyes open anymore.

Anakin felt safe there, safe and loved.

He wished he could feel that again, but Master Qui-Gon still hadn't woken up, Padme was busy, and Obi-Wan had left.

"_I'll be back soon, Ani. There is a…mission I must attend to. I'll be back in a few days, I promise. Will you watch over Master Qui-Gon for me?"_

So here Anakin was, looking after Master Qui-Gon, and trying really hard not to think about the future. He shifted nervously in the straight-backed chair, attempting not to fidget too much, and waited for the something that tickled his skin.

XXXXX

Xanatos DeCrion was many things, but a happy Jedi Knight was not one of them. Being pulled from a very delicate diplomatic entanglement, then requested--dragged more likely-- to appear before the Council on Naboo for a matter concerning his one-time master, definitely did not rank as one of his better experiences. He'd rather do most anything--including reliving that hellish mission to Dilantria and the interminable physical therapy in the Healers Ward that followed it-- than deal with Qui-Gon Jinn.

But Master Yoda overrode his protest. And had then uttered the magic words: Obi-Wan Kenobi. A baited hook if ever there was one.

He could still picture in his mind that first meeting. The red-headed initiate had stood in the garden path barely two meters from where Xanatos was attempting to meditate, with little success. A stuffed Wookie clutched firmly in his right hand, looking a little lost and vulnerable yet wearing a tenuous smile, the boy stood there watching him struggle to find his center. The last thing Xanatos needed then was some sniveling little initiate whom he'd probably scar for life with the pain and anger that surrounded him.

And then the strangest thing happened. The boy slowly walked toward him, promptly plunked himself right down next to him, and offered Xanatos the beloved toy.

He'd been torn between laughing and sobbing at the gesture, and in the end had settled for a mixture of both. At a time when his faith in the Jedi, in his master, in himself had been shaken so badly he'd almost resorted to the unthinkable, a timid boy, who knew absolutely nothing about him other than his pain, offered him comfort and sympathy.

Xanatos had been doubly blessed then; with a little brother to guide and protect, and a beacon of Light that guided him in turn.

Now if only he could get the stubborn, mischievous little rascal to realize that…but it was something he'd been trying to do for years. In vain. And his former master's teaching wasn't exactly helping.

So here he was, on a formerly peaceful Mid-Rim planet struggling valiantly to put itself back together under, in Xanatos' opinion, the Council's overly strict security precautions for a reason Master Yoda had not yet deigned to share with him. Oh, and the bait used to get him here? Not even on-planet.

The only thing keeping him from being more vocal was the implication that Obi-Wan had left against the Council's wishes while Qui-Gon was still comatose.

Out of character seemed like an understatement.

With a sigh, he turned the corridor and entered the hastily erected Healer's ward. Nothing was going to happen until Obi-Wan came back -- and unlike some on the Council, Xanatos' firmly believed he was coming back -- so with reluctance, he decided to assuage that nagging sense of obligation and at least visit Qui-Gon. That Qui-Gon was still unconscious didn't matter.

At least not to him.

Xanatos would do his duty, visit, and reassure the little voice in the back of his mind still gibbering in fear that he might have lost Qui-Gon.

Being confronted by a pint-sized sandstorm was not on his list of things to do.

"Who are you?"

Startled, but too well trained to show it, he replied, "Xanatos DeCrion. And you are?"

"Guarding Master Qui-Gon." And from his expression, Xanatos could see he was doing just that.

"Oh, I see. May I stay here for a bit then? I just want to make sure he's alright."

The kid took in his appearance with a suspicious frown far too worldly for his age. "The Council people have already been here."

Too smart by half this one. "But I'm not on the Council. I'd never survive the bureaucracy. I'm a student of Master Jinn's."

Puzzled now, the boy responded indignantly. "But you can only have one apprentice at a time. I know cause that's what Master Yoda told Master Qui-Gon at the big Council meeting. And Obi-Wan is his apprentice. Not you."

Interesting. Just why would the old troll see the need to point that out? Qui-Gon, what have you done now? Xanatos put on his most charming smile and squashed the urge to strangle his master. Better to wait till he was awake to appreciate it.

"You're right. But I was his first student, Obi-Wan is his second."

The boy's eyes went wide. "Wow. You must be pretty old."

Xanatos raised an eyebrow.

"Oops. Sorry. Mom always tells me--" He broke off so suddenly, it took Xanatos a moment to realize why.

"What's your name kid?"

"Anakin Skywalker."

"Well Anakin, do you mind if I sit here? I promise you I won't hurt Master Qui-Gon."

"I don't know…Obi-Wan asked me to watch over him while he was gone…"

Xanatos smiled and pounced on the uncertainty. Anakin needed looking after and unfortunately for the kid, Xanatos was it. "I've known Obi-Wan since he was younger than you are now. I'm sure he would say it's okay. And I could certainly tell you some stories about when he was little--"

"Really? Like what? I know he likes flying, did he ever go to a pod race?"

"I don't know about pod races, but there was one time on the Initiates annual field trip to Dantooine…"

As Xanatos launched into his tale, he thought that if it distracted Anakin for a while, Obi-Wan would see the logic and forgive him. Eventually.

XXXXX

Mission accomplished. It had taken a fair number of credits, and quite a bit of skillful haggling, but even now he could feel the rightness of his actions, feel a peaceful calm slowly replacing the destructive chaos of his visions. And if that weren't enough, the endless gratitude in warm brown eyes would be forever imprinted on his heart.

But there would be consequences.

Obi-Wan engaged the landing sequence and requested a docking bay, hopefully one not scattered with the remnants of Nubian star fighters. He didn't think his passenger needed to see that just yet. He could barely get his own mind wrapped around the odds Anakin had survived…

He did note, with an increasing sense of irony, that he was being directed to land in a bay which was indeed rather empty, with the exception of two transports, easily recognizable by their insignia.

The Jedi Council had arrived.

As he touched down, he reflexively probed the training bond, searching for that reassuring pulse. Nothing. The same as when he'd left. He couldn't feel anything at all from his master. Not since--

Ruthlessly shoving that image to the back of his mind, Obi-Wan powered down the control boards and wrapped his serenity around him like a cloak, a mask long perfected, and went to collect his passenger.

No matter what this day brought, there would be at least one happy ending.


	2. Chapter 2

Thank you heartily for the reviews. Apologies for the very late update, but I won't be updating regularly. Though reviews tend to be nice kick in the Muse...

Disclaimer: Still not mine.

* * *

"…and then I kinda crashed in the control ship because all systems were overheated, and there were droids all around us, but R2 managed to repair the particle deflector shield, while I accidentally fired at the main reactor and we had to blast out of there--"

Anakin's voice echoed with excitement as it bounced off the vaulted marble corridor in the guest wing of the Royal Theed Palace. Walking softly toward the impressive sunlit alcove where the storyteller sat, Obi-Wan smiled to himself as he took in the surprised countenance of Anakin's audience. Amazingly, it appeared to be his first listening. "I see you keep forgetting to mention how you got there in the first place."

"Obi-Wan!"

Anakin threw himself at the padawan, almost bouncing with excitement and not a little relief that Obi-Wan was back. Returning the embrace, Obi-Wan tossed a quick look at the tall knight standing off to the side and found ice blue eyes regarding him with amusement. Really the affection was a bit embarrassing, but Anakin demanded his full attention and the small comfort was more than welcome. With a sheepish smile in Xanatos' direction, he addressed the boy whose hands were firmly attached to his robes. "Hello to you too, Ani."

Pulling away slightly, the boy gave him a blindingly unapologetic grin. "You're back."

"I promised, didn't I? I see you've met Xan."

"Yup. And he's been telling me loads of stories! You and Master Qui-Gon at the Malastare races, the flying stuffed Wookie, stopping a murder at the Intergalactic Athletic Tournament, the padawan rebellion in the refectory…"

"Had time for all that, did he?" Obi-Wan murmured. A narrowed glance to his left revealed the dark haired knight to be engaged in study of the intricate tiling pattern on the floor.

"Is it true that you and Knight Muln made Master Windu's hair fall out?" Xanatos flinched and had the decency to look embarrassed at Anakin's question. Not that it would save him from Obi-Wan; Xan knew him better than that.

He ignored the question completely. "I have a surprise for you, Ani."

With a puzzled look, Anakin allowed Obi-Wan to guide him down the main corridor and off to the left into a well-protected guest room. It was no less luxurious than any of the other rooms designed to accommodate various heads of state, yet it was noticeably smaller, tucked into a forgotten niche overlooking the Eliste Gardens to the south. Filled comfortably with classic Nubian craftsmanship and rich fabrics in colorful soothing tones, it was a perfect compliment to the lush vegetation easily visible through the windows. It fit with Obi-Wan's plan for security and Padme's expression of gratitude and respect.

Understandably, all of this was completely lost on Anakin, whose attention was captivated by quite a different kind of beauty.

"Mom!"

He didn't remember getting there, but suddenly his mother was ruffling his hair in that annoying way which made it stick up everywhere. Anakin opened his mouth but he couldn't find the words to tell her to stop. With his arms wrapped fiercely around her neck, his mother whispered nothings of love and home and the desperate hunger in his heart eased. He'd been so sure he'd never see her again, despite his promise. Anakin felt his eyes itching and knew he was too old to be crying, but so much had happened and now Mom was really _here_, that today he didn't care about the sand in his eyes.

When he finally pried his eyes open again, his face suspiciously wet, he saw the tall dark master -- bald, must be Master Windu, he thought -- speaking softly to Obi-Wan. The master's stern face said he was actually yelling at him in that quiet way grown-ups seemed to have. Obi-Wan looked exhausted, but he must have sensed Anakin watching because he turned and caught Anakin's stare. His arms tightened around his mother and Anakin smiled as he thought he saw the padawan's eyes become a brilliant green.

Obi-Wan winked at him.

In that moment, he became Anakin's greatest hero.

XXXXX

With a stinging admonition from Master Windu to appear before the Council in the morning ringing in his ears, Obi-Wan held together his mask of serenity long enough for the Council member to leave. But not long enough to fool the friend who stood silently by his side. Probably would have seen through it anyway, he thought.

With a last look at Shmi and Anakin, who seemed to be talking non-stop now that he'd regained his voice, Obi-Wan typed a short message on the com console and let his companion precede him as they left the room. They headed toward Obi-Wan's own guest rooms, every bit as lavishly elegant as Lady Skywalker's. He'd tried to refuse them as too extravagant for a Jedi, but predictably her majesty had smiled at him beneath her painted mask and told him, "You are a hero of Naboo, Jedi Kenobi. The least we can do is offer a soft place to sleep." When he saw the bed, he thanked the Force she'd insisted.

Obi-Wan could almost feel the questions tripping over themselves to knock on his shields as the door closed behind them. Just as Xanatos opened his mouth to launch his interrogation, Obi-Wan slipped in, "You realize that I can hack into your quarters any time I wish."

Xanatos hesitated only a moment before replying in the same light tone, "You try keeping that boy occupied when he's got his mind on something. He could rival you for sheer stubbornness."

Obi-Wan simply looked at him silently. Xanatos sighed, "Just as long as you stay away from the 'fresher this time." With a pointed look, he added, "I've heard Master Gallia has been rather anxious to acquire a certain security recording."

A casual "Oh?" was his only reply.

"It seems that two rather adventurous padawans decided to race through the Grand Hall on hover boards. Naked."

Obi-Wan successfully controlled the urge to blush. "Xan, do you remember the Festival of Light two years ago?"

"Vaguely."

"Pity. I never knew the human body could be so…flexible. Though if you're feeling curious, I'm sure Masters Koon and Billaba could help refresh your memory. I believe they've worn out the playback on their vidscreens." The horrified disbelief on Xan's face was incredibly satisfying. "So, how've you been?"

Xanatos blinked at him. He seemed a bit slow to catch on to the game this evening. Obi-Wan wondered if perhaps Anakin hadn't worn him out more than he'd thought. Or perhaps he was just amazed at the effectiveness of Obi-Wan's skill in detachment. He should be; Obi-Wan was clinging to it tenaciously.

"I've been bored mostly. Babysitting some monarchs, exposing a few corrupt Senators, stopping a civil war or two."

"Sounds dreadfully dull," Obi-Wan responded dryly. "Any explosions?"

"Of course. But that was from the coup on Pranthius IV. Can you believe there are liberals who actually think the people should control the government? A whispered word or three, a timely accident, and suddenly everyone is calling for revolution armed with slug-throwers and hydro-spanners. Thoroughly misguided, the lot of them." Xanatos' eyes sparkled with mischief.

"Ah yes, the universally sanctioned chaos called democracy. Put them to rights did you?"

"Well, it certainly was a challenge to appear neutral, but I find I quite like being the mastermind behind planetary conflicts. After all, must keep in practice if I'm going to take over the galaxy," he informed Obi-Wan haughtily.

"Naturally."

With a contemptuous sniff, Xanatos continued, "I was enjoying a particularly vicious verbal duel between the High Priest and the Chief of Arms on Tarak Sul. I was about to win my bet with the Prime Minister on who would throw the first punch when Master Yoda kindly 'requested' my presence here."

All levity abruptly vanished, forcing Obi-Wan to wade through what was left. "Actually, that was my fault. I requested you."

Xanatos' lifted eyebrow spoke more eloquently than words ever could.

Obi-Wan released a deep sigh, and absently rubbed at his temple to stave off the impending headache. "It''s…complicated."

Taking in Obi-Wan's pinched features, Xanatos dropped all pretense and said quietly, "So start from the beginning."

"I'm sure you've heard pieces of it from Anakin."

Xanatos scoffed. "Which only tells me that I really need to hear what happened from you, otherwise I'm going to be strangling our dear master as soon as he wakes up."

But is he going to wake up? Obi-Wan cut off that train of thought immediately, though it warmed his heart to hear Xan speak so confidently of Qui-Gon's return.

"I know you've…disagreed in the past--" he valiantly ignored the incredulity on Xan's face "--but this really isn't Master's fault. He did the only thing he could do and followed the will of the Force."

"And sod anyone else. Obi-Wan, you're not convincing me he shouldn't be drop-kicked halfway across the planet. I suggest you tell me what happened and before Anakin remembers the rest of the world exists. I won't be able to pry him away from you with a lightsaber."

"Ani wouldn't--"

"Spill. Now."

Another deep sigh prompted Xanatos to take a second look at his 'little brother'. He'd known Obi-Wan was beyond tired and stretched almost to the point of breaking. It was difficult to hide from someone that had learned to read him so well. But something fundamental had changed. It was written in the weary tension of his shoulders, the mounting lines of stress at the corners of his mouth, the imperceptible tremor of fingers that he carefully hid in his robes. But mostly, it was in the eyes and that worried Xanatos most. He was so lost in contemplation of that disquieting difference that he almost missed Obi-Wan's soft words.

"It started as a simple negotiation, a political move by Chancellor Vallorum to force the Trade Federation to back down from their blockade. One moment we were sitting in a conference room sipping tea and awaiting our less than gracious hosts, the next…we were rescuing the Queen from the invading army."

"All in all, a typical mission for you then," Xanatos broke in with a wry smile.

Obi-Wan returned the smile faintly. "We managed to break through the blockade, but not unscathed. Tatooine was the logical choice to stop for repairs and it felt right, like we were being pulled toward it."

"Anakin."

Obi-Wan nodded. "Master was the first to pick up on it. And through some questionable means, we acquired a hyper drive generator and an extra passenger."

"I don't think I want to know," Xan muttered.

"Before we left, Master encountered…a warrior. It appeared to have been tracking us and though Master escaped, it shook him." And me, he added silently. He hid it well for Anakin's sake, but he didn't think he'd ever seen Master Qui-Gon so unsettled after a fight.

"We returned to Coruscant and briefed the Council. Master requested that Anakin be tested," he ignored Xan's rolling eyes, "and eventually, the Council agreed. They concluded that Anakin was talented, but declined to accept him as an initiate. Master…argued that Anakin should be trained despite his age and that he…would do well with more intense individual guidance as a padawan." Obi-Wan's detachment was wavering and Xan was observing him far too closely.

Xanatos regarded him intently for a long moment before commenting, "You honor Qui-Gon's teachings well, Obi-Wan, both in loyalty and diplomacy. But that's not the story I heard from Anakin."

"What I've said is true," he protested weakly.

"And therein lies the skill of diplomacy." He waited for Obi-Wan to reply but silence was all he received. Xanatos continued, "The Council rejected Anakin for training. He was not going to be a Jedi as Qui-Gon promised. So the rebel did what he's always done: charged ahead single mindedly, because of course Master Qui-Gon Jinn could never be wrong when it comes to the will of the Force. He claimed Anakin as his padawan."

Obi-Wan's face remained carefully blank as he listened, but his stomach twisted as he recalled Master's voice proudly declaring Anakin his padawan learner. A validation Obi-Wan had fought for desperately and had seemingly good cause to doubt. "You can't blame him for wanting to take Ani--"

Xanatos cut him off, angry and unforgiving. "He tossed you aside."

Like an invisible hand, Xan's words sliced through his fragile body to grasp the pulsing organ lying battered and bruised in Obi-Wan's chest. Without care or finesse, cold greedy fingers squeezed and shredded his heart with sharp nails before ripping it free from his flesh, leaving him as empty as the bond in his mind.

"Obi-Wan?"

He stared ahead, grey eyes unseeing, his whole being focused on the distinct absence of feeling. He could touch the Force, knew that it reached back toward him as he reached for it, but the ever-present warmth that usually filled him was missing. Instead a creeping cold replaced it, slithering up his spine and coiling up inside his stomach like a stone. As his awareness turned outward, Obi-Wan saw that Xanatos was worried, nearly frantic at his lack of response. He tried to summon the will to care, to reassure, but there was nothing.

"Obi-Wan?! Are you alright?"

Meeting Xanatos' blue eyes -- they look so warm now, he thought -- Obi-Wan answered calmly, "I'm fine."

* * *

_to be continued_


	3. Chapter 3

Happy Holidays! An actual update. Thanks for your lovely reviews, and to those who've put this story on their Alert list. It makes me wish I could promise regular updates... Hope you enjoy. All is not what it seems. Suggestion, comments and criticism are welcome!

Disclaimer: Imagination is my only possession.

* * *

Mace didn't understand what had happened between last night and this morning, but the rebellious apprentice he'd chided only yesterday afternoon was nowhere to be seen. Instead, a quiet, calm and collected Jedi stood ready to face the consequences of his actions. His motions and gestures were relaxed and graceful, his voice well-modulated with an even melodic cadence typical of those raised in the capital, and his eyes were clear and steady, neither blatantly challenging nor skittishly avoiding the truth. His presence spoke of more than the composed mask that so many learn to wear and went deeper than surface expression. On any other occasion it would have made Mace proud to see such a promising student let go of his anxieties and find confidence in his path. But today, with this Jedi, and after all he'd seen and done on this mission...

On the journey to Naboo, Mace had thought they would be deciding an appropriate punishment for young Kenobi. For the padawan who'd so often played the peacekeeper between his master and the Jedi Council -- indeed the only person who could calm either faction down when they were spoiling for an argument -- for him to break mission parameters, accept monetary compensation, abandon the Naboo in crisis, and buy a slave, was to face expulsion from the Order.

Yet Mace could already see the effect the padawan's demeanor had on the other members of the Council. If there was anything Kenobi could have done to make them reconsider expulsion, this was it.

Despite public perception, the Council was not heartless or soulless. Each of the masters serving on the Council had trained an apprentice, and once upon a time, each had had a master; they were not without sympathy for Kenobi's loss, particularly in the face of his battle with the Sith warrior. It was a shocking return of the nightmare even Mace thought had ceased to exist except in children's stories. But taking a glance at his fellow masters, he had a sinking feeling this meeting would not proceed with Kenobi's best interest at heart.

Mace was the only Council member to have any contact with Obi-Wan yesterday. The quiet desperation, weary relief and tightly controlled panic that clung to Obi-Wan outside Lady Skywalker's quarters had made him wince. It was nowhere in evidence now. Mace could not deny that this man in front of them, cloaked in serenity, waiting out their silent scrutiny with patience and detached interest, was a Jedi Knight.

It made him unaccountably wary and torn over the correct course of action.

As Ki-Adi Mundi broke the silence and Kenobi began his debriefing, answering provocative and redundant questions alike with poise, Mace found himself contemplating the Jedi Code. _There is no emotion, there is peace._

Obi-Wan Kenobi could not have impressed the Council more with his logical, rational explanations. And where there were none, he conveyed his visions with a quiet but unmistakable authority born of unwavering trust in the Force. He admitted his faults openly, his anger at the Sith that had struck down his master and how he used it to fuel his attack. He spoke of his struggle to maintain Qui-Gon's life-force whilst simultaneously drawing on the Dark to fight the monster, and of his realization, almost too late, that the two were counterproductive. From a distance, Mace heard the others reviewing the details, grilling Obi-Wan in earnest as their focus shifted from Kenobi and his transgressions to the return of the Sith.

In their minds, lightly connected, he could sense the unspoken yet clear acknowledgement that Kenobi had passed through his Trials and emerged a stronger, wiser Jedi, ready to take his place in the Order. Thus resolved, they moved on to events of greater import: the Sith and their machinations.

But Mace could only think of one thing: that the change between yesterday's padawan and today's knight was unnatural. The sinking feeling had only gotten worse. Something was wrong and the other masters seemed not to feel it at all.

He searched out Master Yoda and found the small master listening intently with his eyes closed and a slight frown on his face. It came to him suddenly that perhaps Qui-Gon might be right about the Code after all.

It was a disturbing thought.

XXXX

It was uncanny how a place that used to inspire such fear and loathing in him had quickly become an almost necessary relief. The impossible scent of nothing and antiseptic, the crisp and ordered lines of everything from equipment to bed sheets, the constant rhythm of sound; each provided numerous opportunities for meditation. Granted, this was not the Healer's Ward of the Jedi Temple, but then, it didn't need to be. The light tread of assistants making their rounds, delivering meals and changing bedpans and IVs, next to the soft beep of a heart monitor would have been the same anywhere.

Anakin had already been by three times, most recently accompanied by his mother after mid-day meal. He'd expected it to be awkward, sitting by Qui-Gon's bedside and keeping up optimistic chatter, but Anakin had been strangely subdued during his visits and Lady Skywalker simply looked at Obi-Wan, took his hand and didn't let go. Something inside him began to thaw.

He didn't notice when they left, but he imagined the muja berry stain that now graced his left sleeve had come from Ani.

Qui-Gon looked older when he slept. Or maybe he just looked older. Without those vibrant, compelling eyes, his face lacked the youthfulness the force of his personality engendered. Perhaps he was just seeing what a 12-year-old padawan's hero worship hadn't let him see before.

Obi-Wan was seeing many things differently now. When Qui-Gon awoke, he would be the same man, the same maverick he'd always been. His recovery would take time, a long time certainly, endured with impatience to be out in the galaxy and doing the will of the Force. His master might emerge a bit humbler for his defeat, but would push himself harder to regain fighting form and eventually serve the Order as diplomat and warrior for decades to come. It wasn't a vision of the future, simply the logical conclusion drawn from years' experience in knowing this man.

"If I didn't know any better, I'd think you were avoiding me."

Obi-Wan didn't even turn around as he replied, "I don't think I'm the one who's specializing in avoidance."

Xanatos acknowledged the hit with a slight dip of his head. "Perhaps. But you'd be amazed how easy it is to get into an argument with a comatose patient. Not really the best atmosphere for recovery, or so the healers say."

At that Obi-Wan allowed a small smile, "Oh, I don't know. I think if you push the right buttons, you might force him to wake up just so he can prove you wrong."

"Maybe we'll try that method later. Right now I'll just enjoy the peace and quiet." As he spoke, Xanatos crossed to the other side of the bed, sat in one of the uncomfortable chairs found in medical facilities everywhere. After a moment's hesitation, he reached for Qui-Gon's hand and held it gently in his own.

"Obi-Wan?"

He looked up and saw Xanatos watching him nervously.

"What happened?" he asked softly.

There was no clear answer to that. He was unsure how the morning meeting with the Council would play out, but Obi-Wan knew with certainty that his future was intertwined with the Jedi. In what capacity remained to be seen.

He sighed, "No decision from the Council yet but--"

"Not with the Council, Obi-Wan. What happened to you?" The gentleness in Xanatos' eyes and voice would be a great surprise to many in the Order could they see him now. He had a reputation as a good operative, efficient and thorough, but with a penchant for 'sneaky' tactics and a cold practicality that had labeled him as ruthless. To those who didn't know him.

Obi-Wan felt a little bit more of the alien coldness leave him.

"It was the bond, Xan. I let go."

He could tell that Xanatos hadn't actually expected to get an answer so quickly. There was no use in denial though, Obi-Wan knew that. Xan had been there, seen his reaction and felt the effect. He had been the catalyst that ripped the truth free, and hours spent in uneasy meditation here had led to acceptance. Obi-Wan didn't blame Xanatos for the hurt is words had caused, but it was clear his friend didn't share that view. It was almost amusing how obviously careful Xan was being in choosing his words.

"I'm not sure I understand. You...let go? How do you mean?"

Obi-Wan answered in the same quiet tone. "The training bond. It was already gone, really. I just…wasn't ready to accept that."

Tense moments passed as his words were absorbed. Obi-Wan prayed Xan wouldn't question him further; knowing how strained his relationship with Qui-Gon was, he had no wish to widen the divide. The simplest explanation was best for all concerned.

Slowly, ever so slowly, the tension bled out of the room and Obi-Wan could see Xanatos' misplaced feelings of guilt leaving with it. They sat silently together, each contemplating the complex man that was their master.

Outside the window, the setting sun was painting an astonishing array of colors across the sky, light orange fading into pink, then violet, reflecting off clouds and the domed architecture favored by the Naboo. Shadows played around the room like mischievous spirits, moving about, there and gone, taking over the room steadily until an apprentice healer gave a small cough and turned on the lights.

"Master Jedi? I believe last meal will be served soon."

Obi-Wan nodded at the young woman, then turned to find Xanatos watching him.

"Why did you call me here Obi-Wan?"

After a slight pause, Obi-Wan replied, "As you may have noticed earlier, Anakin needs looking after."

Xanatos started at that, and Obi-Wan could practically see his mind turn away from the implication.

"Well, now you've brought his mother back, she can deal with the kid."

Obi-Wan resisted the urge to sigh. He knew Xan wasn't going to make this easy. Best just to come right out and say it then.

"Xan, I brought you here because I think you should train Anakin."

"_What?!_"

For an indignant squawk, it was quite impressive in volume.

"He's a gifted young boy who desperately needs training. Ani may exaggerate his adventure, but I'm sure you'll agree that only someone exceptionally powerful in the Force could accomplish what he has at his age."

"But...I don't--"

"He really is a friendly child, very loyal and hard-working and seems to be a quick-learner. He'll do well as your padawan, though he does have enough energy to power a small planet. I think it'll be good for you."

Xanatos spluttered and looked at him like he'd declared his undying love for Jar-Jar Binks. It sparked a bit more of that warmth he'd lost.

"I—That's not…He--"

"And you shouldn't worry about the Council, I'm fairly certain that they will see the necessity. With the reappearance of the Sith, they can't afford to abandon Anakin to fate."

"_Obi-Wan_!" Xanatos' whole being practically radiated frustrated bewilderment. "You-- Wait, Sith? What are you talking about? Why do you think I should be Anakin's master?" he demanded.

"Because you'd do well together Xan," he answered placidly.

"You can't just say… I mean, I've never taken an apprentice, I don't know the first thing about—Why not you?"

He was grasping at straws and Obi-Wan wanted to laugh at the absurdity. "Xan, I'm just a padawan, with an uncertain future at that. Qui-Gon asked me to, but I'm not a knight, not ready. So I'm fulfilling my promise as best I can. Just because you haven't had an apprentice, doesn't mean you wouldn't make a good teacher."

"What about Qui-Gon? Once he's recovered?"

"You know as well as I that he won't be in any state to train an apprentice for a long time. Besides," he continued quietly, "I… don't think Qui-Gon is the right master for him, Xan. Something's not right about it."

Xanatos looked at him intently, perhaps understanding how incredibly difficult it was to say those words, how disloyal they felt. And how strongly he must feel in order to say them. Finally, Xan looked like he was considering the idea seriously.

"Why me?"

Obi-Wan offered him a twisted half-smile. "I suppose you mean aside from your qualities as an excellent Jedi? You can understand him, Xan. His situation is unique; his attachments, his family ties. You can help him find a way to have those and still be a Jedi. You can help him find a balance."

The faint grimace around Xanatos' eyes was not encouraging. His face was pale and his mouth drawn, like he'd eaten bad grekti soup.

"I've never found balance for myself, Obi-Wan. What makes you think I can help him?"

"I believe in you," he said simply.

A knock on the door to Qui-Gon's room prevented Obi-Wan from seeing Xanatos' reaction. He turned and found a palace page, a young girl about Anakin's age standing in the doorway. Dull eyes looked over the room's occupants and then rested on Obi-Wan's boots.

"Last meal in the Queen's Hall, sirs. I'm sent to fetch you."

For some reason, her voice unsettled him. It was innocuous, a voice any girl her age could have, but something about it seemed off. As he reached into the Force, the girl met his eyes and Obi-Wan felt flash of anger and fear quickly hidden. Obi-Wan stepped forward, but the page was already slipping away down the corridor.

"Obi-Wan."

Xanatos stood next to him, his shoulders straight and his expression confident and focused.

"I think you're wrong about this, Obi-Wan. However…I'll do as you ask." A grin stole across his face. "But only if it becomes necessary."

Following him out, Obi-Wan wasn't sure whether to be grateful or very, very worried.

_to be continued..._


End file.
